


California Sunshine

by ChocoChipBiscuit



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Female Super Mutant, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5381591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoChipBiscuit/pseuds/ChocoChipBiscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunny gets a taste of California.</p>
            </blockquote>





	California Sunshine

Sunny walks her familiar route circling the Yangtze Memorial, Cheyenne panting alongside. Sun’s well past midday, drifting west. Heat’s settled in her bones, makes her feel lazy as an over-easy egg. Licks her lip, tastes salt.

A twitch of motion in the distance, a plume of grit. Almost lost in the heat-shimmy of baked earth.

She shades her eyes with one hand, then sights through her varmint rifle. Cluster of ‘scorp activity, tails high. A ferocious smack and one sails into the air with a burst of yellow gut.

“Cheyenne, stay close,” she orders. Geckos are one thing; radscorpion venom’s another. Cheyenne growls low, but obeys.

Her rifle doesn’t have the power to punch through the scorpion’s armored exoskeleton, but joints-- especially in those high-waving stingers-- make dandy targets. She jogs to the nearest rise, scanning for a better view of what’s going on.

A dozen scorps on the move, three clustered. Four dead on the ground, bodies split. An immense sword catches the light, glittering off the edge of a steel bumper that’s been beaten and sharpened into shape. Slices the very sunlight. And _oh_ , but the woman wielding that big-ass sword is magnificent too. Skin the dusty green of dry sage. Thighs massive as trees, and her biceps thick like the slow roll of rippling dunes.

Sunny swallows. Takes aim and starts picking off scorpions.

The mutant woman’s got things under control where she is, so Sunny starts with the scorpions farther away. Keep the stranger from getting overwhelmed.

The kick of her rifle is a familiar comfort, sharp metal tang in her nostrils. Stains her palms with gunpowder, a perfume more personal than any floral spritz from Vegas. The mystery woman starts, seeing the scorpions drop. Doesn’t stop though, swinging with renewed vigor. Between the other woman’s sword and Sunny’s rifle, they make short work of the rest.

Sunny whistles, a broken pitch that skitters between notes. Waves her hands. The woman grins broad, waving back. Sensing the new mood, Cheyenne bounds ahead, sniffing at the dead scorps as the woman starts slicing into them to harvest the poison glands. Sunny sets herself nearby to eject the spent cases from her gun, tucking them into a pocket on her satchel. Can always reuse ‘em later. They settle in companionable silence as they work.

Eventually, the big woman speaks.

“Wouldn’t have thought that bitty gun could take down scorps so quick,” she says, voice deep and rolling. Less growl than Sunny was expecting, though still a hint of vocal fry.

Sunny snorts, reloading her rifle. Sets it aside and pulls out a knife, sets to stripping out the venom glands as well. “I aim for eyes and joints. Same as ants or ‘lurks.”

“Not complaining. Damn fine shooting.” The woman smiles, big and wide as the Mojave moon. “Name’s Calafia. After the big lady out west, but Cal’s just fine.”

“Sunny.” They shake hands, Sunny’s hand engulfed in Cal’s larger one. Damnedest thing, shaking hands with someone who feels like one big callus before realizing no, it’s just that her calluses are as big as Sunny’s palm. Feels right, feels solid-- calluses more precious than pearls. Signs of a life well-worked.

“Mind if I take most of the glands? We’re running low on antivenom, so…”

“Don’t mind, so long as you help me get some of the meat home.” Sunny frowns, cocking her head. “You’ve got friends nearby? I didn’t see anyone…”

Cal shakes her head, wrapping each gland in a cloth twist before setting them in her pack. “‘We’ being the folks in Jacobstown. Marcus sent just lil’ old me on this hunting trip.”

“You’re a ways from home then. If you come back with me, I can at least put you up for the night.”

Cal’s face splits in an enormous grin. “Sure thing.”

Turns out Cal’s no slouch in the kitchen either, even if her enormous hands make Sunny’s knives look like toothpicks. Fills up the room too, a cozy kind of massive as Cal chops potatoes. Sunny dips strips of radscorpion in milk, then dredges through a cornmeal mix. Floor cool beneath her sock-clad feet, a nice change from the over-warm comfort of her boots.

“What spices do you use?” Cal asks, the dull thunk of knife on wood punctuating her words. She grimaces at the deep gouge left in the board, but relaxes at Sunny’s breezy wave.

“Peppers, mesquite.” Sunny pours oil in a pan, lets it heat. “Sorry, should have asked first. Anything you can’t eat?”

“Nah, just nice to get some spice for a change. I usually let Lily cook, but she has a tender tummy.”

Sunny tilts the pan to spread the oil. Uses the edge of her spatula to coat it evenly. “Lily your girlfriend?” she asks, trying to keep her tone casual. Steady hands, steady voice. Watching the pan.

Cal chuckles, a lazy bass rumble that tickles something south of Sunny’s navel. “No, more like my gran. Nice lady.”

Good to know; Sunny tucks that away for later as she nods to Cal. “Oil’s ready for those potatoes. Got some leftover nopales too, can add once the potatoes are cooked. And if you can chop the onion too, that’d be great.” She grins, tilts up to wink at Cal. “And got some jalapeno too if you like spicy.”

“Hot damn, you’re an angel,” Cal sighs, thumping her hand over her sternum in a pitter-patter heartbeat.

Cal slides the potatoes into the oil, and Sunny stirs, scraping the bottom of the pan. Lets it sit as she grabs another pan, pouring more oil. An easy silence settles between them, like dust between the floorboards. The clink of the tin can chimes is the only noise until the potatoes start sizzling. Then Sunny adds Cal’s onions and switches stations. Deft as Cal might be, Sunny figures slicing the jalapenos and digging out the seeds is best done by someone with smaller hands. Sunny chops the ends off, then splits it lengthwise and uses the tip of her knife to strip out the seeds. Pinches the little bit of white rib that remains, then flattens the jalapeno against the cutting board as she starts dicing.

“Dare you to eat the seeds?” Cal says cheerily. She pulls an innocent expression, pouting her lips and batting her eyes when Sunny glares at her.

“Do I look like an idiot?”

“Nah, but maybe a daredevil.” Cal sighs, slumping her shoulders in mock defeat. “You didn’t even ask what the stakes were.”

“Can’t be anything worth burning my tongue off.”

“Not even filthy sexual favors?”

Sunny chokes, knife biting deep into the board. “My god, you really want my burning chili-hands all over your bits?”

“ _My_ hands aren’t covered in jalapeno guts,” Cal points out. Then she smirks, leaning over to stick her tongue out. “Though if the burn’s all that’s stopping you…”

Sunny laughs, bumping Cal aside with her elbow as she adds the diced jalapeno to the potatoes and onions. “If you just wanted into my pants, you don’t have to do any stupid dares.”

Cal shrugs, bumping Sunny back with her hip. Catches Sunny’s shoulder when the smaller woman staggers. “Give me some credit. Felt like a better lead-in than ‘hey, want to bang?’”

“At least I wouldn’t be questioning your sanity…” Sunny lets her voice trail as she scrubs her hands in the sink, sudsing soap into the palm of her hand and scratching her nails through it. Best chance of getting rid of all the oils. “The answer is ‘yes,’ by the way.”

“Nice to know I didn’t completely turn you off with the jalapeno line.” Cal stretches her grin broad, stirring the potato mixture. “Got those nopalitos?”

“Yeah, let me just get the scorpion started.” They fold around one another again, Cal taking up so much space but tamping herself to fit, letting Sunny slide around her to drop the radscorp strips into the pan. Sunny’s mouth waters at the fragrant sizzle as she pulls out the leftover cactus pads, dropping them into the potatoes.

Companionable silence for now, just the quiet scrape of spatulas and the spatter of oil. Sunny lets the radscorp turn crispy before flipping it.

“Mom always said cornmeal was to purify it, but I figure she just liked it with extra breading,” she says, sliding the first batch onto a chipped blue plate. Feels a gnaw of guilt over not having anything fancier for company, but she so rarely has guests anyway. Silly for her to pretend her house is catalogue-perfect when the rest of her life is grit and boots anyway.

“Yeah, cooking it should be enough to denature the venom. Do like it crispy though,” Cal says, running her tongue over her lip. Big tongue.

Sunny briefly let herself imagine just how that tongue would feel against her-- broad laps over her breasts, a wash of warmth and wetness along her thigh-- and nods. “Same. Trudy always says I burn it though. Fair warning.”

Cal bats her eyes, fluttering her hand over her mouth in exaggerated horror. “It starts smoking, I’ll scream and jump around.”

Sunny leaves it on a touch too long on the second side, the radscorp looking distinctly closer to ‘brown’ than ‘golden-brown,’ but Cal smacks her lips anyway as Sunny slides it off to start the second batch. Sunny finishes a third panful of radscorpion before taking pity on Cal’s famished looks of longing. Cal doesn’t wait for Sunny to fork the food over, instead juggling hot pieces of meat between her fingers and dropping it on the plate. Sunny serves the potatoes and they make their way to the living room by unspoken agreement. The dinner table’s too small for Calafia anyway, and Cal sits cross-legged on the rug with the ease of long experience.

They both focus on their food, chewing with all the intensity of a growling belly as Sunny cracks open two sarsaparilla bottles.

It’s a gentle muddle of flavors, the sarsaparilla wiping away the oil and jalapeno-pucker in a sweet herbal wash. Cheyenne sits patiently for her scraps, snapping them out of the air as Sunny tosses them with a whistle. Cal helps with the wash-up afterwards, drying dishes and stacking them with a gentle clink while Sunny scrubs. The Mojave Radio plays in the background, tinny guitar twang drifting over the splash of bubbles.

“Shame none of the stations managed to get any new music,” Cal says, wiping the last fork clean. “Variety’s nice, and none of the records they use are gonna last forever.”

“You play music?” Sunny asks, drying her hands on a faded dishtowel. She checks her hip into Calafia’s thigh, gently nudging Cal aside as she puts the dishes away. Might not have needed to be gentle; Cal’s all muscle on muscle. Feels like bumping a dresser. Makes her wonder how sensitive Cal is.

“Not me, nah, though I’ll sing along. Some of the muties back in Jacobstown got a percussion band. Beat the hell out of some old barrels, rattle to wake the dead. Like a Jet-head’s jitter-rush, kind that goes through your bones.”

“Can’t imagine it as a lullaby.”

Cal chuckles, low and rolling. “Nah. Spooks the critters if we’re too close, but it’s like a storm rattling through you.” She grins, quirking her brow like she might be raising an eyebrow if she had any hair. “Doc’s always ragging on the players to wear earplugs so they don’t go deaf. Beats living out the next couple centuries with an ear-trumpet.”

“Yeah, hard to wheel out cheesy pick-up lines if you can’t hear the response.” Sunny steps sideways to avoid Cal’s swat, grinning ear to ear and scuffing her socks across the worn floorboards.

“Goddamn, but it’s been ages since I’ve seen a cute girl I wanted to bang. I was rusty, alright?”

“Any rustier and you’d creak when you walk.”

“Nothing a little lube and elbow-grease won’t fix,” Cal says cheerily, radiating a suspiciously twinkly good humor.

Sunny snorts, brandishing her finger at Cal. “If your elbows are greasy, that’s a whole ‘nother problem.”

Cal plucks her by the wrist, loosely linking her thumb and forefinger around Sunny’s forearm and tugging. Sunny allows herself to be pulled, taking the two and a half steps to close the distance between them. Hardly any space at all for Cal, but more than arm’s length for Sunny. There’s warmth and weight to her presence, like sun-baked stones. She bends near-double to bring her lips to Sunny’s forehead, kissing high on the hairline. She drifts lower as Sunny tilts her head back, brushing shadow-soft and whisper-light over eyelashes and the bridge of the nose, but it’s Sunny who rises to tip-toe to press her lips against Cal’s. Lips chapped and flaked with salt and spice, a faint licorice afternote on Cal’s breath as Cal opens her mouth and Sunny tastes her borders. A slow and lazy mingling of mouths, Cal’s other hand now across Sunny’s back and it’s nice, gentle like dawn rippling across the sky.

“Want to sit down for a bit?” Sunny murmurs around the edge of Cal’s mouth, nuzzling.

Cal groans, hand drifting lower to cup Sunny’s ass. “Yeah, sounds good to me.”

“Mm.” Sunny pulls, twisting her wrist out of Cal’s loose hold, then gripping Cal’s finger. Now it’s Sunny’s turn to tug, leading Cal through the living room and to the small bedroom. Cheyenne twitches an ear as they walk past, but does not otherwise stir. “Don’t mean to rush, but figure the couch is too small for the both of us.”

“Rush can be fun.” But Cal’s hands belie her words, a soft squeeze and then fingers ghosting up the bend of Sunny’s spine, trailing to the nape of her neck, parting through the wispy strands of Sunny’s loose ponytail. Sunny turns, one hand flat to Cal’s sternum and pushing Cal back to the bed. The mattress groans as Cal sits down, but does not creak-- Cal chuckles on the tail of a juddering sigh of relief.

“‘Fraid of breaking the bed?” Sunny asks, cupping her palm over Cal’s cheek. Traces her fingers down the line of Cal’s jaw, tickling the pulse of Cal’s throat.

Cal lowers her chin, pinning Sunny’s hand to the softness of her neck. Kisses the bend of Sunny’s wrist. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” she admits.

“If you break my damn bed you owe me a new one,” Sunny growls, but all the threat’s gutted as she straddles Cal’s lap. Cal’s feet are flat on the floor, and her legs so long that it makes her lap tilt, knees bent at a ridiculous angle. Means Sunny slides forward, body pressed flat into Cal’s and her arm trapped between them. Sunny winces, lifting her elbow and squirming it out between them as Cal kisses an apology into her scalp.

“I promise, we break your bed and I owe you a new one,” Cal murmurs, but then there’s no space for words between them, soft mouths and mutual exploration filling up all the little gaps they have. “But haven’t broken a bed in _ages_. Must be my girlish figure.”

The bed rocks back into the wall, knocking as Sunny pushes forward. Experimental, seeing how much sway they can get before the bedframe protests. Cal’s a mountain of a woman, unfamiliar terrain for Sunny’s eager hands. Even sitting, Cal’s taller than Sunny-- makes Sunny want to grab on tight and hold, climb her every peak and sing jubilation.

“And if it breaks…” Cal says, breaking away just enough for Sunny to catch the glint of good humor, “I promise to kiss all your bruises and your boo-boos.”

Sunny squeezes Cal’s shoulder, dipping low and cupping Cal’s breast with her other hand. Feels the hard peak of a nipple through the worn fabric, no bra-- but Cal’s breasts are small only compared to the rest of her bulk. Fills Sunny’s palm and spills past her fingers. Sunny rucks up the edge of Cal’s shirt, sliding her hand over the curves and lines of lived-in muscle, exposing more rolling planes of green flesh to the wan yellow light of her bedroom lamp. Sunny kisses with dry lips, mouth parted and flicking her tongue to dot Cal’s skin. She tastes-- not dirty, but warm. Travelled. Lingering salt and road dust, the Mojave baked into her skin. Like the smell of rain and chaparral, ridges of scar slick-sweet to the touch. Thick, warmer than human, maybe, but still sensitive enough that Cal squirms when Sunny tests the edge of her tooth against that thick skin.

“‘Boo-boo,’ not ‘boobie,’” Cal chuckles, even as she settles a hand beneath Sunny’s shoulders. Spans Sunny’s entire back, a warm press of flesh without weight. Gentle, presence rather than possession.

Sunny mm’s soft in her throat, something that might be mistaken for an apology as she kisses an in inward spiral over Cal’s breasts. Soft lips and gentle tongue, stopping just shy of the dark areola. Cal radiates heat, so warm it hits Sunny in shimmering waves. Sunny drags her tongue over the edge of Cal’s nipples, a long lap and then puffing cool breath across the wet skin.

“Fuck, it’s _mean_ to play with just one like that,” Cal groans, squeezing her knees together. Her legs rub high on Sunny’s thigh, a friction of skin beneath warm denim.

“Then take your shirt off and I can play with both,” Sunny says. She refuses to make it any easier for Cal though, kissing and fondling as Cal shrugs her shoulders, stretching the fabric overhead. When Cal balls it up, Sunny snatches it from her hands.

“Hey!” Cal says. But she leans back on her elbows, using the pillow to cushion her head against the wall. Wriggles herself in, underscoring the insincerity of that protest.

Sunny grins, wriggling forward so she straddles Cal’s waist. Bit of an awkward stretch, but not uncomfortable. “If there’s any clothes-throwing, I want to be the one to do it.”

“Your house, your rules,” Cal chuckles. She rolls her head to the side, giving a sidelong peek that would be coquettish if it weren’t for the massive grin on her face. “So, do I get to strip you too, or are you calling the shots here?”

“Yes to both.” Sunny huffs mock-exasperation, puffing a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. She snaps her fingers, holding her nose high as she takes an exaggerated sniff. “C’mon now, make with the naked. Chop chop.”

Rolling her eyes, Cal obeys. Puts those massive fingers to the front of Sunny’s shirt, unbuttoning with surprising dexterity. The fabric pulls tight against Sunny’s shoulders, tugging her into Cal as Cal opens up the shirt and pulls it off Sunny. Like undressing a doll, kissing the top of Sunny’s head before hooking a thumb behind Sunny’s bra strap and unfastening it. It’s nothing fancy, a faded white gone gray from too many washings, but Cal plucks it between thumb and forefinger, laying it gently aside like it’s of finest lace.

Sunny rocks forward on the balls of her feet, unzipping her jeans and squirming sideways. Has to roll off Cal to remove her jeans, but Cal removes her panties with a deft touch, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. When she catches Sunny’s raised eyebrow, she snorts.

“You’re tiny. Needs all my concentration not to rip anything.”

“I’m not tiny. You’re huge,” Sunny corrects, working her left toes down the sock on her right foot, bring it past the heel and then kicking them off. She repeats the process on the other foot, letting the socks drop to the floor next to her jeans and discarded shirt.

Cal flicks her panties on top of the pile, worn cotton sailing through the air with a soft _tmp_ as it lands. She then turns her attention to Sunny’s exposed patch of hair, tickling her thumb across the coarse crinkle-cut of texture and _mm_ ’ing appreciation. “What a sweet little clitty-cat we have here.”

Sunny falls over laughing, snorting into Cal’s shoulder and thumping her fist against the wall. “Don’t you ever fucking dare use that line again!”

Cal chuckles, turning to a pleased grunt as Sunny grabs her wrists and pins them to the pillow. Could break out as easy as breathing, but she laughs instead, smile honey-dripping across her cheeks and creasing soft lines around her eyes. Gasps high and startled when Sunny kisses behind her neck, her jaw, licks a line down the tendon of her neck and nuzzles in the hollow of her throat.

“Keep your hands up high, by your ears,” Sunny says, the order made soft as she sucks a purple mark between neck and shoulder.

Cal groans, “But I like touching you,” even as she lifts her heads, pillowing into her palms with her elbows jutting to the side.

“Payback for ‘clitty-cat.’”

“Cruel woman.”

“Cruel,” Sunny begins, trailing hard sucks and nips of teeth down Cal’s chest, “would be _not_ getting you off. Would be just sitting on your face and riding you ‘til I’m wet and lathered, then knocking off to sleep right after.” Nibbles Cal’s nipple, rolling the bud between her teeth and grinding down against Cal’s thigh. Body aches for more, but figures she owes Cal at least a little pleasure first.

Cal hisses, bucking her hips. “So whatcha planning?”

“Getting your pants off. Very important first step.” Sunny pinches the button-- stiff and cold against her hand, riveted tight-- and pushes it through the buttonhole, a rough shimmy of denim as Cal lifts her ass and Sunny rises, half-standing, half-squatting over the bigger woman as she hitches the pants past Cal’s hips and over the broad expanse of thigh. Grabs the edge of Cal’s boxers, pulls them along in one unit. Takes a moment to admire all that exposed skin-- the green looks dusty-sweet, tinted gold where the light hits. Rich and deep in the shadowed valleys of her body, like pine and the first taste of winter.

Cal interrupts Sunny’s reverie by kicking her jeans off, hitting the floor in a soft heap of fabric. The button hits with a single click, muffled by the weight of the legs.

Strange and lovely to see Cal laid out like this now, rippling muscle and hard edges, with that bare pubic mound-- Sunny knows some of the Vegas girls shave and wax _everything_ , but Cal’s not the type. Still gorgeous, just like the rest of her. Full-fleshed and inviting, inner lips just slightly longer than the outer, a sort of rose-purple like a distant peak on a hazy summer day.

“Socks too?” Cal asks, wiggling her toes. Sends her calves loose and springy, a playful bounce to her legs.

“You take off your own socks,” Sunny says, burying her nose in Cal’s belly-button. Giggles, licking the soft swell of belly as Cal curses and angles her feet together, working her socks off without the benefit of hands. Sunny likes the way it makes the dimples on Cal’s thighs twinkle, nuzzles the flexing abdominals and giggles again at the pout-lipped petulance Cal shoots her.

“Bossy little human,” Cal mumbles.

Crawling back on her hands and knees, Sunny says, “Whiny giant mutant.”

“Bite me.” Cal yelps, knees rising high and body twitching as Sunny licks over her slit. “Wait, don’t bite!”

“Spoilsport,” Sunny laughs, palms set wide across the delta of Cal’s thighs. Sets her thumbs on the labia, drawing outward. And god but Cal smells good-- some travel, sure, but the sort of musk Sunny loves on a woman, a hint of smoke and spice like dark tea. Wonders if it’s a mutie thing or a Cal thing. Cal’s already slippery to the tongue, Sunny lapping broad strokes around Cal’s pussy. Edging the clit, never directly on it. Letting it swell, bud hard and stiff before Sunny licks her finger and draws back on the hood.

“Ffffuck yeah, that’s hot,” Cal groans, drawing her elbows together and bracing into the pillow. “That’s… really hot.” Panting, biting her lip as Sunny rubs a small circle. “That’s… ouch, fuck fuck fuck! That burns!”

Sunny pulls her hands back with a hiss, shaking. “Fuck! Thought I washed off the jalapeno!”

Cal shivers, whimpering. Forearm over her mouth, shoulders trembling as she struggles to control herself. Sunny licks and kisses in apology, trying to use her tongue to wash away the remaining oils. Doesn't taste the capsaicin yet, but Cal’s still moaning.

Takes her a few moments to realize the shaking’s from laughter, not pain. Then she shoots up Cal’s body, sitting on her chest and prying at Cal’s forearm.

Cal whoops so hard tears glisten. “I got you _good_!”

“You fucking ass!” Sunny thumps her knuckles across Cal’s sternum, growling. “I was worried about you!”

“And it was sweet! It really was!”

“You’re damn lucky I’m not kicking you out!” Sunny leans forward, biting Cal’s neck. Sucks hard, teeth denting skin and gnawing to work the color in. Gonna bruise up brilliant; a petty retaliation, sure, but Sunny’s not above being petty.

Not like Cal can claim to be better. She hisses, squirms, wedges her chin tight into her shoulder in an effort to fend off Sunny’s bites. “Dammit! You part molerat?”

“I’m not playing nice anymore!” Sunny growls, clicking her teeth together and flipping herself around. A knee on Cal’s ribs, an “oof!” as Sunny accidentally elbows her in the stomach, but Sunny’s mouth is level with Cal’s cunt again, straddling Cal’s torso. She pulls back on Cal’s labia again, fingers sliding back the clitoral hood and wraps her lips around the stiff bud. Cal’s clit about as big as Sunny’s thumb, making a good target. She presses hard with her teeth, knees clamped tight enough to feel her bones creak.

But Cal’s a big girl, Cal can take it-- even when she’s squirming, bucking, and Sunny squirms a hand under Cal’s ass, squeezes tight and digs in with her nails. They’re so fucking alive together, all heat and breath. Like the thrill of a first rodeo; all Sunny needs is a hat and lariat and it’s all the fun in one package.

“Fuck, fuck, can’t,” Cal grunts, wordless cry and sweat, body slapping the mattress with heavy thuds as she lifts, arches, screams. Losing speech, just moans.

Sunny’s not even sure if Cal came yet-- could be a hell of a build, all the tension climbing without the release-- but she pauses.

Cal shivers, collapses. Pants hard and open-mouthed, mouth tilted to Sunny can feel the breath puff over her feet. “Fuck. Why’dja stop?”

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t take-- well, shit. Guess I _can_ , but. Shit.” Cal swallows, hisses past her teeth. “Shit. It’s really fucking intense. Almost like it hurts.”

“Want me to stop?”

“Nah, nah. I kinda like it. Just borders on too much.” She rolls her shoulder, nestling deeper into the pillow. “Fuck. No wonder dudes like getting head.”

“Doc told me once that clits have all the same nerve endings, just packed smaller,” Sunny says, swinging her knee over Cal and turning to face the larger woman again. “But if you actually can’t take it, let me know, alright?” She waits until Cal cracks her eyes open, meeting her gaze. Gnaws her lower lip.

“Gotcha, gotcha. I’ll tell you to stop.” Cal smiles crooked and beautiful as the sunrise. “If I’ve had enough, I mean. No more ‘it burns, it burns’ bullshit.”

“Good girl.” Sunny pats Cal’s thigh, kneading her thumb into the muscle. Then squirms back into position, lapping soft over the clit. Alternates hard sucks with long laps, riding Cal’s body and savoring the roll of flesh and sinew. All the familiar but grown large, all warmth and sage and sweat as Cal moans, keens, sighs--

More tension now in her thighs, tcalves tight and knotted as Cal points her toes, legs locked straight and feet hanging off the bed, body arching and lifting Sunny with her. For a wild moment Sunny’s afraid she’ll roll off Cal and tumble to the floor, but Cal collapses with a shuddering sigh, a thud that rattles the floorboards and makes the bed sway.

Sunny kisses Cal’s thigh, dips a finger through the wet gush of cum. Licks her finger as she sits back, rolling to face Cal. Sits beside her, knees stacked and grinning ear to ear.

Cal’s still breathing hard, eyes closed. Limp and boneless, like a jellyfish picture from one of them Verne novels.

“How you feeling?” Sunny asks, trying to keep the smugness from her voice. It still shines through, like sunlight through a slatted window.

Cal catches the pride, cracks her eyes open just to roll them at Sunny. But she’s grinning too, even with her breath rattling through her teeth. “Real damn good.” Wriggles her toes experimentally. “Holy shit, my legs are all tingly.”

“Tired?”

A sidelong peek, again that strangely coquettish twinkle. “Not too tired to eat you out, if you don’t mind being on top.” Yawns big and long, curling her tongue and lapping like she’s trying to lick her own nose. Cheerfully obscene, dimples flashing. “Sit on my face?”

“I don’t sit, I ride,” Sunny huffs.

“Can I at least get off my hands?” At Sunny’s nod, Cal groans and pulls her hands out from behind her head. Flexes her fingers, fluttering them with a sigh. “C’mon up then.”

Sunny leans forward, pressing a kiss to Cal’s cheek before scooting her butt over Cal’s chest. Puts her knees over Cal’s shoulders and leans forward, one forearm braced on the wall and the other on Cal’s forehead. Cal scootches lower on the bed as Sunny adjusts. Tickles Sunny’s pubic hair with a slow exhale.

“I’m not sitting on you funny, am I?” Sunny asks, tilting her head.

No expression visible except nose and eyes, but Cal shakes her head, mumbling “nuh-uh!” before licking with gusto.

Sunny closes her eyes, sighing into the wall. Rough edges scrape her forearm, easy to ignore-- wet wash of sensation down on her clit, Cal’s tongue covering her in one long lap. She slides her palm, instinctively trying to grab for a lock of hair, something to anchor herself. Hooks her fingers behind Cal’s ear, pinches. Careful not to use her nails, though she squirms, hisses. Bites her lip to keep from whimpering as Cal swirls her tongue. Hard to imagine that big tongue doing anything with such finesse, but god-- makes her knees buckle, makes her melt and lean into the wall, forehead resting against the cool surface.

Cal pinches her ass-- though ‘squeeze’ might be more accurate with those enormous fingers. Makes Sunny buck forward, pussy grinding into Cal’s mouth and mashing Cal’s nose with her belly. Cal snorts protest as Sunny wobbles herself back up, and Sunny’d apologize except that she can feel the orgasm building, coming in waves rippling through her body. Cool and wet and tingling and heat, all fluid and lapping through her. Coming apart, losing herself-- a high gasping cry, fist beating the wall, then a languid melt of flesh as her bones are replaced with something syrupy-sweet. Like she’s made of agave nectar, body limp and unable to do more than pant as Cal picks her up with one hand under her butt, the other on her shoulder. Gotta be a bad angle but Cal’s big enough to do it anyway, setting Sunny beside her like a doll. Props Sunny’s head against her shoulder, kisses the top of her head. Lips rasping over her sweat-damp hair.

“Feeling good?”

Sunny tries to say something. It comes out an incoherent mumble into Cal’s armpit.

Cal chuckles, wiping her chin with the back of her hand. “I think that’s a yes. Aren’t I great?”

Sunny musters up enough energy to raise her middle finger.


End file.
